


The different Christmases of Dean Winchester (and the best one yet)

by emmadilla



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Christmas, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, only a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 15:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17552177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmadilla/pseuds/emmadilla
Summary: Dean reminisces about Christmases past, and decides on a whim to make this year's the best one he's ever had.





	The different Christmases of Dean Winchester (and the best one yet)

**Author's Note:**

> 30 Day OTP Challenge
> 
> Day 12: Christmas
> 
> \-----
> 
> Y'all knew we weren't making it out of this OTP challenge without Destiel, right?

Dean could only vaguely remember Christmas before his mother died. If he tried really hard, focused and concentrated, he could conjure up a few images. Mary Winchester really liked to go all out for the holidays, decorating the house in a whirlwind, wrapping presents, and - best of all - the veritable spread of pies. One very clear memory he had was sitting down at the kitchen table on Christmas Eve, almost too excited to sleep, as he ate a big ol’ slice of apple pie and chased it with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Somehow, despite the sugar intake, the warm milk and soothing chocolate syrup Mary used helped lull him to sleep as he anxiously awaited the next morning. That particular memory was more of a blur, but he could still remember bits and pieces. Waking up excited, running down the steps to see what Santa had brought him. His mother and father sitting there in the living room, drinking their coffee as they waited for him. Tearing through presents and exclaiming loudly as he got the cowboy hat and gun holster and toy revolver set that he’d been wanting. He’d put on his boots later and donned the whole getup over his pyjamas, roaming around as he kept a careful watch in order to keep the peace in the wild western town that his house had become.

 

After his mother died, Christmas rarely came to the Winchester household … and by household, really it was whatever hotel room or apartment or house that John had managed to snag while they were on the road. Dean did his best, though, did whatever he could to make it a special occasion for his brother. He had to watch over Sammy, now, be the dad that their own father couldn’t be. Christmas wasn’t for him anymore, but … it could still be a nice day for Sammy. When he could, Dean would get one of those small Christmas trees and set it up, decorating it with whatever he had available … candy wrappers, shredded magazines for tinsel, small McDonald’s toys, candy canes if he really went all out. He made it his mission to find the best gas station pastries for them both to enjoy come Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, and even if the hot chocolate wasn’t as good as his mother’s, it was close enough. And if the gas station just happened to have pie? Well, then that was really all the present Dean wanted. He did his best to save up little bits of money so he could splurge and get a few things for Sammy, even if it was usually just things he found in the Dollar Store. Sammy was young enough he didn’t really seem to care, he just enjoyed the holiday for what it was, even if their father was usually gone for most of it.

 

Occasionally, though, they’d get a real treat and end up at Bobby’s or Pastor Jim’s. Oh, those years were the best, as far as Dean was concerned. They’d always have a real spread, lots of good food and desserts, an actual tree to look at in wonder, and even real presents for the both of them. Bobby always did his best to treat the boys like they were his own, and whenever they spent the holidays with him, they could be guaranteed to stay up late, sleep in just as late, lounge around in pyjamas, read comics, drink hot chocolate, and nibble on whatever sweets Bobby left lying around. Bobby just let them be and enjoy themselves, to enjoy being _kids_ , because despite the responsibilities Dean carried at that young age, he still really was just a kid. And only at Bobby’s was he able to be that once more. The few time they spent at Pastor Jim’s was a little more formal, but still just as nice. They’d attend services in their best clothes, have a large meal, and then collapse in the bed in a food coma until they woke up on Christmas morning, presents waiting for them under the tree. They didn’t get this kind of treat often, but anytime it came around, they were sure to enjoy the hell out of it.

 

Dean continued the tradition of keeping up a holiday for Sammy through the years, but after Sam left for college, he didn’t really see much of a point anymore. Sure, if there was a cheap, small tree, he might throw it up in whatever motel room he was in. But otherwise, he didn’t really do much of anything. He still ate some pie, but traded in the hot chocolate for whiskey. Sometimes, if he was close enough and in a self-punishing mood, he’d drive over to Stanford and park outside Sammy’s dorm and watch for him. And he’d usually see him there, either in the window of his room or the common area, hanging out with his friends and laughing, not a care in the world. And then Dean would raise a beer and smile a little, because at least Sam was happy. That was all he ever wanted. It was the best Christmas gift he could ever give himself.

 

After John went missing and Sam got pulled back into the hunting world, they fell back into their normal routines. Decorating a small tree in a dinky motel, exchanging practical gifts of alcohol and snacks or whatever the hell could be found at the nearest gas station or convenience store. It was just a part of their life, they didn’t have the time or the selfishness to be able to properly celebrate a holiday. They left that to other people to enjoy. Once in a while, if they didn’t happen to have a case they were working on, they’d go out for a drive and look at the lights, see the displays that other people put up. Normal people that lived in normal houses and did normal things. In other words, not them. They couldn’t do that kind of thing. But they protected those who did, so that they could live and celebrate without fear of what went bump in the night. It was a sacrifice they just had to make.

 

Nowadays, though … well, it was a little different. Ever since the influx of hunters from the other world, there were more people to distribute jobs to so that, should they choose, Dean and Sam could actually get a little downtime. And, of course, when they saw Jack’s face lighting up at the Christmas displays already going up, they knew they had to go all out for him. He was still basically a kid, in some ways, though he’d grown up a lot from when he was first born. He was a lot more mature and level-headed than he had been, but when he encountered something that was new, there was still that child-like exuberance that had long been burned out of the Winchesters. And so, Sam and Dean made it their personal mission to find the biggest tree that could fit in the bunker and plenty of decorations to fill it up. There were some traditional ornaments, like balls and hanging crystals that looked like icicles and garlands and lights - so many lights - but there were plenty non-traditional ones that they bought, ones like the death star and a Klingon war ship and the General Lee. Jack had especially insisted on a Twilight Sparkle ornament, and the brothers had shrugged and let him put it on the tree, and he made sure it was displayed with prominence, nestled between Hal Jordan’s Green Lantern and the TARDIS.

 

Stepping back, Dean admired their handiwork as he took a sip of beer, smiling as he saw the joy it brought to Jack and the other hunters that were currently at the bunker. It was their first taste of normality in a long time - some of them their first - and as Dean stole a glance at Castiel, he winked at the angel. Cas returned with a nod and a small smile of his own, walking over to stand next to him as they watched Sam turn the lights on. All the oohing and ahhing that echoed was reward enough, and as Dean took another sip, he figured that out of all of his Christmases, this was probably the best one. Not because of any extravagance or excess, or even because things were perfect - because they were far from - but because _he_ was going to make it the best one yet.

 

And so, with one more sip, he set down his bottle of beer, turned to face Cas, and kissed that damn angel silly. The seraph startled at first, but melted into the hunter’s touch. _Oh yeah, best Christmas ever._


End file.
